Collapsed Hearts and Unresponsive Minds Don't Make it Out Alive
by CyanGalaxy
Summary: From the moment his wife died in the escape, Anakin was already a goner (major character deaths, apologies in advance).
1. Part I

_From the moment his wife died in the escape, Anakin was already a goner (major character deaths, apologies in advance)._

* * *

Pure, fresh, scarlet streaks ran down her significantly paled, yet deathly still face, almost seeming like tears if they hadn't so painfully obviously been her own vital blood. Just with that mere added detail formed from the lacerations, it made the scene even more agonizing knowing the Senator died in pain. Whatever, so she wasn't crying with actual tears, did it matter? Blood, tears, they're the same thing when it comes down to it. When you're in pain, you bleed, wether in blood from your wounds or tears from your scars—you're hurt, you're in pain, you bleed...

...Ahsoka knew this not by Padme's fallen face, but by Anakin's which looked entirely drained of...well, _everything._ Her Master didn't move, too mentally trapped in the all-consuming attack that just conspired, the one that robbed Padmé of her life. He looked nearly as dead as she did, like it was _him_ who'd been the one that was thrown mercilessly and lifelessly in the explosion, and considering their unconventional care those two had for each other, she wouldn't be surprised if that was what it felt like to be Anakin Skywalker right now.

The Padawan couldn't even get a read on his mind, and that was something she'd _always_ been able to do. When he was concealing his thoughts, she could tell. When he was conflicted, she could tell. When he was in pain, _she_ could tell... But not now. It truly _was_ like the man was dead, too. Like Ahsoka was only staring at a pale, emotionless ghost... Or he just didn't have anything on his mind that she'd be able _to_ pick up on, either... His mind was a blank slate. If Ahsoka had learnt anything from her extensive experience as Anakin's Padawan, she'd know this was a fateful sign. If it was anyone else he cared for, Anakin would be enraged, taking out the heads of any battle droids within the permitter, tracking down the exact droid bombers that had caused this...

...he'd be _anything_ , but nothing...

Maybe he was in the same situation as Ahsoka, frozen in thought while trying desperately to assess what had occurred, but she knew that wasn't true. However clouded and un-prioritized her mind was, she could think, could feel. He was just staring wide-eyed at the body which once belonged to the Nabooian Senator. His lips were slightly parted, as if to say something, _anything—_ even just to simply scream, but his unresponsive brain wouldn't allow it. Now Ahsoka was certainly sure his complexion had gone beyond the color of faint pale, taking on a much more dreadful darkened gray, which even scared her.

She needed to say something, she needed to help, she needed to get them both out of here, since he clearly didn't have the ability to do so himself. Tearing her azure eyes away from the sight of Padmé, she stayed fixated on him instead. Trauma radiated through the Force like a blearing alarm. A burning sensation accompanied it, along with never-ending spots of crimson blood that attacked her vision when she tried to stand from the hard, concrete ground. Somewhere there were more screams, more shouts, more bombs exploding in the distance (or possibly close-by, she didn't know), but Ahsoka tried her best not to focus, nor worry about them. It wasn't hard, she discovered, since her ability to care about the danger was compromised when her soul attention was Anakin.

In this moment, the Knight looked so young, so traumatized, just kneeling on the ground with his hands and knees. She was supposed to be the child in this relationship, the Padawan, but it didn't seem like that now. Anakin looked—no, _was_ so helpless—and far smaller than he should've been. Years of Jedi training and gaining mental stability had completely left him, as he was entirely detached from the present reality. It terrified her more than she'd like to admit, because if he was so lost, how would she deal with the situation, how would she help her Master? Anakin was fearless, the hero, unstoppable, but if such a Jedi like him can fall, what did that mean for her? She needed Anakin, but he needed her, and everything was just _so_ overwhelming.

 _Stop thinking like that, Ahsoka..._ The little voice inside her head told her, but even it was shaky and unconvincing. Perhaps it was a memory of what Anakin would say to her if he was able to, or even the Force itself guiding her. The thought of it being someone that was her friend—maybe even Padmé—made her want to listen, so she did. _Fear gets you no where; you're a Jedi, and right now your Master needs you. Help him._

She bent down to the ground next to Anakin, collapsing as her unsteady legs couldn't support her any longer. It was okay though, she'd figure out how to use them again once she figured out how to help him.

Shallowing a large lump in her throat that only made her feel sick when it slid down her stomach, Ahsoka shuffled and lay her hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently. She knew she had to speak now, which would possibly be the most hardest part.

"Anakin..." Her mouth found itself saying. "Master, we have to go."

She watched him for about a minute when he didn't react, refusing to let his eyes go of Padmé still lifelessly lying only a few meters away. The shadows from the overhead droid bombers loomed over the ground, casting over her body and replaying images of her extremely brutal death back into the Padawan's mind. She slammed her eyes shut, only making the noises of the previous scene become more vivid. When she finally came back to her senses, she realiszed it was only a mater of time before the Seps came back harder and succeeded in their mission on killing the rest of the Republic forces.

"Anakin, please..." Ahsoka whispered, half ordering, half begging. "They're coming back." Still, no response, the man wasn't even shaking, blinking, yet she thanked the Force he was still breathing. She shook him less gently than she had before, more harshly, knowing she shouldn't be so rough with him in this state, but she was terrified and desperate. Her mind told her she had to. "Anakin, listen to me, we _have_ to go..!" After hesitation, as it felt ill speaking of Senator Amidala like this so soon, Ahsoka added, "We will be killed, too..!"

She very nearly jumped back when Anakin's petrified, ablaze eyes turned sharply to her. Well, though he was frozen, not saying a thing, it was somewhat of a response, so she'll take that as improvement. He allowed himself to be guided up by her, while she felt every tremor and strangled gasp that left his lips when she helped him stand. Any moment of recovery crumbled, unfortunately, when he threw up, Ahsoka the only thing stopping him from collapsing back down.

"It's okay," She breathed, noticing how fasted her own breathing had become. Somewhere in her mind she knew how to use the Force to calm her racing heart, but that information had escaped her in the heat of the moment. She focused her attention on seeking cover from the sky bombers, somewhere where the medics would be also, 'cause Force knows Anakin wasn't alright, and perhaps herself, as well, but her need of medical attention wasn't as serious; she could live for now.

"We'll head for the building," She told him, even if he wasn't _all there_ mentally. The idea to comm for Rex or literally _anyone else_ shattered once the girl saw her comm-link had broken off into one million different pieces, most likely due to the explosion. Though she used the Force to protected herself from the blow, the comm-link did not have that luxury.

She turned to Anakin, expecting him to suggest something else, or give her his, but she was all to painfully reminded that he wasn't fully aware or coherent when all she saw was his sickly face. She snapped her mind back to reality, shaking her head clean of distracting thoughts. Anakin's comm, she could use that instead. Reaching to take his hand, Ahsoka grabbed his wrist, but almost instantly he jerked his arm back almost violently.

"She shouldn't have been there..." He all but mumbled inaudibly, Ahsoka only catching what he said because they were so close. She could feel the uneven breaths coming from his mouth, taste the blood in the air that surrounded them both, sense the guilt laced within the Force, even though it wasn't coming from the numb Anakin.

 _It's you,_ the voice whispered, but this time not helpfully. This time it was accusingly.

"I know," Ahsoka answered him, her own voice thick with unwanted sadness and blame. What Anakin had said—in a state of coherence, or not—was the truth. Padmé wasn't supposed to get caught between the fighting, that was the GAR's job and the Seppie's job to fight, to _die_ fighting. It should've been their lives' that were taken. The Force truly does have a sick sense of humour.

"Come on, lets get Rex." Her mind drifted away from the subject, onto more important matters. The Padawan held onto her Master more tightly as the pair made their way to the half demolished, blown up building that might have once been a high gathering place, had it not been destroyed. It looked just like all the other wrecked buildings, and it was hard to tell which ones the clones were taking cover in. She saw no blaster fire from Republic or Separatist, so they much be fighting in another part of the city. This place apparently was left to the sky bombers to destroy, along with the Senators...

Another squadron of soaring bombers in the atmosphere ran their corse, first dropping the explosives on the capital building as expected, but all too suddenly getting way too close for comfort... again.

"They've found us." Anakin mumbled again, this time she couldn't hear him at all from the noise that drained away everything else. The first explosion hit the ground a few blocks away from them, but four more followed after that before a screaming warning in the Force all but shouted in her ears to _run, Jedi, run!_ Either herself, or the Force was too slow, because Ahsoka ran out of time. It felt like it was all over before the pod even hit the ground.

A searing, burning sensation infiltrated her mind, causing her body to give in to the blow of the explosive force. She saw nothing but red, red like the blood on Padmé's face. It was acidic, flesh-melting, excruciating—made her think if she wasn't already dead, this sensation would be her demise. She tried closing her eyes as the world around her engulfed her senses, but the red, searing pain was within her mind, her dreams... there was no escape. It was in the Force, in herself, in their bond, in Anakin, and suddenly all she did was scream with her damaged vocal cords. Another scream registered in her mind, too, but it wasn't her's, nor unfamiliar either...

 _Anakin._

This pain wasn't her own. Her mind howled in agony, but not physically, but heartbreakingly, traumatically, emotionally. Her bloodshot eyes opened wildly, as the Padawan noticed everything she had sensed became Anakin's reality with the young General scatted across the ground, thrown from the explosion like a rag doll, barely conscious, barely breathing, hardly alive.

"Anakin!" She was by his side in an instant, ignoring all the injures she herself had sustained in the explosion. She doubted she could even determine what was her own pain and what was his, considering pain through herself and their bond was all she knew, equally balanced between physical and mental.

 _Come on, Ahsoka, think! You're a Jedi, don't fail your Master like you did the Senator!_ The voice was completely against her now, or at least it seemed like that with its screaming tone and heartless demeanour. Maybe if her mind, the Force and everything else would just calm down, she'd be able to assess the situation like a Jedi, rather a failure of a Padawan!

Digging into the cobwebs of her brain, she remembered learning from Barriss how to locate injuries with the Force, and somewhat put beings into a healing trance if necessary. Hopefully that would start her on the right track. If she just kept that kind of thing up, she could make sure they'd both pull through.

* * *

Ahsoka was calling his name, that much he knew. Over and over again his Padawan called for him, the problem being he couldn't respond back, or even _think_ of the words he need to say to acknowledge her. His brain felt half-dead, the part that allowed him to form sentences completely in fragments. Honestly, he wanted her to stop talking all together, as he couldn't understand much of what was being said, nor was he going to try and answer. All Anakin really wanted, was to lay where he was. The ground—however damaged and rough—was still warm from the explosion, but not hot like it burned as his body seemed to. It reminded him of lying in bed with Padmé on mornings he could only dream of right now; or her warm, gentle palm stoking his hair, face in comfort when the nightmares of her death were too vivid. If Anakin convinced himself hard enough, he almost saw her delicate face looming behind his closed eyelids. It taunted him, too, as that would be a face he'd never see again, only in this unconsciousness. He knew when Ahsoka managed to awake him, save him, Padmé and her image now would be gone and he'd be alive, so he savoured the moment, taking in every detail of her, because Anakin knew Ahsoka wouldn't let him die. He drowned himself in that reality, the one where _he_ chose his fate, not Ahsoka, floating closer to the edge of an euphoric utopia with his wife, using Ahsoka's frantic words as an anchor, just incase he needed to return to the present for some insignificant reason.

Anakin found the strength to care about it all evaporate like water on Tatooine when he realized there truly was no reason he wanted to come back to life. It was a twisted and dark way of thinking, he knew, but that mere information didn't classify as important in his mind, so he ignored it. He ignored Ahsoka, too—letting go of the only thing keeping him from drifting further beyond unconsciousness.

It's then when he heard the Togruta scream. " _Anakin!_ Please, don't give up, you're stronger than this! Hold on, you can make it!"

But he finally found his voice and replied, _It's okay, Ahsoka._ He didn't want to make it, anyway.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **HEY DOODS HEY, so I said on wattpad that I'd make a fluffy, sweet story like a sick!fic or something... and yeah that clearly didn't happen :'D Most comments/reviews, if I get any, always say something like "...sad, though" and I know, and I'm sorry xD Someone actually messaged me privately to know if I was suicidal because my stories imply a lot of death/suicide right now, but I'm fine xD My writing is just in a dark place right now ;)**

 **Feedback is appreciated, I love hearing from people and what they think :3 Sorry about the end part, coz it's rushed. Favourite/review if you liked it, even if you found it morbid xD**

 **I swear I'll try and not write something so** **depressing next** **time** **;)**

 **May the Force be with you**

 **-CyanGalaxy**


	2. Part II

**A/N: FYI, this was written a while ago, just never posted it on here.**

* * *

 _He realized with gut-churning_ _paralyzing terror that for the first time in all his life, Anakin Skywalker, the Hero With No Fear, the Jedi's most greatest warrior was frozen solid in a state that was so foreign it was indescribable_ _._

* * *

The explosion hit.

He couldn't move.

He realized with gut-churning paralyzing terror that for the first time in all his life, Anakin Skywalker, the Hero With No Fear, the Jedi's most greatest warrior was frozen solid in a state that was so foreign it was indescribable. He had not a mere _sense_ of free will, as his body had reached it's information overload capacity, or perhaps the amount of soul-tearing trauma that one's brain could process, making Anakin an enslaved prisoner of his own mind.

He couldn't breathe anymore, his lungs had become ash, disintegrating just as his conscience seemed to. The phantom feeling of automatic breathing had finally escaped him, leaving his body entrapped, but aware enough that it needed air Anakin was deprived of.

It hurt, it burned, the sensation of no longer being provided oxygen made his eyes blur, his head ache and made the scene before him tip dangerously to the side.

Air was all around him, he knew that. It was laced with grit and dirt and the putrid smell of metallic blood accompanied by the screaming warning through the Force, left over by the explosion, but he just couldn't _grasp_ any of it. His mind had locked his whole body into place, every functioning bodily necessity – even the ability to intake vital oxygen, something taken for granted, something that he never had the _need_ to think about before – was practically shuting off with his mind still fully coherent.

Well, as coherent as one could possibly be in that state.

Electric messages throughout his body to his brain were scrambled – there was no way Anakin could tell that his mechno arm was crushed, ripped apart, dangling lifelessly by a few wires and metal fragments, since the nerves wouldn't respond correctly. But the part of his mind that was _just_ thoughts was fully conscious, practically screaming in words that were unable to decipher.

He ached for the chaotic, erratic buzz of everything to fade away, for the Force to take him away, as this was the time Anakin truly thought it was all over, the time to stop fighting and rest, the time he'd be free, be with his mom and – and he'd– but...

He'd be with Padmé.

He saw, not with his eyes but with the Force sense entwined within the air, and felt the most excruciating feeling his twenty-two-year-old self had ever been exposed to know. The very essence of a fading lifeline connected to his being was shattered, being torn away from the insides of his mind, the air, the living Force. _This_ , Anakin knew with as much certainty as he knew is own name, was Padmé's life.

It rendered him completely lifeless, real agony only he could feel from the moment the explosive struck, eliminating at least one of its targets.

She was gone.

* * *

 **\- CyanGalaxy**


End file.
